A Wanderer in the Wastelands
by Phsbarbie
Summary: A story about my Fallout 3 Lone Wanderer being the Courier in Fallout New Vegas. This series is fairly new, so expect more chapters on it soon!
1. Chapter 1

I wake up on my knees with my hands tied in front of me, some asshole in a checkered suit pointing a pistol at my head. You've got to be fucking kidding me. I've been trying to cut back on my cussing, it's appalling the language I've picked up since I left the vault. But honestly, there is no other word that can cover the situation right now. Fuck.

I thought I'd left all this behind in the Capital Wasteland. Five years ago I followed my dad's footsteps and broke out of vault 101. I traced his path across the Wasteland, trying to find him, positive he needed my help. He did, desperately, but I still couldn't save him. He died in front of my eyes at Project Purity, another victim of the Enclave.

I could have just said screw it at that point, went my own way, but Dad raised me better than that. I needed to get Project Purity running, the Wasteland needed clean water, and I needed revenge on the Enclave. I guess that makes my motives less than pure. Yes, Dad raised me right but no one in this day and age has completely pure motives. Well, maybe Fawkes, but he's a Super Mutant so not many people would believe that anyway.

So off I went to the Brotherhood of Steel, all in all a good bunch of people. They helped me find the information I needed to get Project Purity running _and _blow up the East coast headquarters of the Enclave. They even swooped in and scooped me up after I nearly died of radiation poisoning, nursing me back to health.

Around this time I realized there was an unexpected side effect to all my deeds. What I considered being a decent person the rest of the Wasteland considered being a hero. I guess there are few enough people in the wastelands trying to do good where they can that it's become a miraculous occurrence. When Three Dog talked about me on the radio I was no longer the kid from vault 101, I was now the Messiah of the Wasteland. The downside of being a hero is it's a lonely life, at least it was for me. Still, I kept going, determined to make a life for myself there. It wasn't until I traveled to Lookout Point that I decided I just couldn't take it anymore.

To get in good with the local cult and hopefully find the missing Nadine I had to go on a stupid quest, complete with hallucinogenics. During my journey back to the world of the sane it was pointed out to me that I was all alone. My mother- died in childbirth. My father- killed by the Enclave. Hell, I'd even gone back to the vault to save the people there, only to be kicked out by Amata, my supposed best friend, once I was done. I was mocked by every person I was unable to save, accused of being the reason my loved ones died. It got to me. The only thing this horrible vision couldn't touch was my dog, Dogmeat.

When I finally got out of there and was on my way back to the Capital Wasteland I planned to spend a full day with him in my house in Megaton, get my head back on straight before venturing out again. Butch met me at the docks. He said he was really sorry, but he had taken Dogmeat out scavenging and a raider had taken his head off. I shot Butch in the leg. He screamed like a baby, but he's just lucky I didn't shoot to kill.

I was done after that. I closed up my house and sold it back to Lucas Simms. I made sure Elder Lyons of the Brotherhood of Steel agreed to give Fawkes a home. In exchange Fawkes would help them understand the Super Mutant threat better. I sold Charon's contract to Carol in Underworld so that I knew he'd never be forced to act against his conscience again.

In short, I closed up shop and left. I got in contact with one of my Caravan friends and he told me about a buddy of his that was headed out west. I sounded perfect to me, a fresh start. So I signed up and headed out. That was four years ago.

The first thing I leaned upon arriving in the Mojave Desert was that people here were barely aware of what was happening on the East coast, and cared even less about it. No one had even heard of the Lone Wanderer, let alone what I looked like. Which was fine by me. I took a job as a courier for Mojave Express and spent my time running from one settlement to the next. I never stayed longer than it took to deliver the message and resupply. I didn't stick around to see who needed help, I didn't make any friends _or_ any enemies. Easier that way.

Which begs the question, who the hell is this guy with a pistol to my head? The only people I can think of that would want me dead are the Enclave, and this guy is definitely not one of theirs. He looks at me with _almost_ sympathy in his eyes, as if he'd spare me if he could, but oh well, this is the way it has to be.

"This must seem like a run of 18 karat bad luck to you," he says. Who talks like that? "But the truth is the game was rigged from the start." He pulls the trigger and all I see is black.

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up on a bed, a far cry from the cemetery that I had been shot in, with an old man standing over my head.

"Easy, easy now," he said. "You've been out for a few days. Can you remember anything?" My head was pounding and that light shining into my eyes above me wasn't helping. "Let's start with something simple," he tried again. "What's your name?" I tried to speak but my throat was drier than the desert outside. I struggled to swallow and try again.

"Angel," I managed to push through my dry wind pipes in a croak. It's an incredibly feminine and fluffy name, but I could never bear to change it. My dad said my mom named me right before she died. She claimed I was her small piece of heaven in this post-apocalyptic hell. The man looked stunned for a moment but then chuckled.

"Well I can't say that's the name I would've chosen for you, but if that's your name then that's your name. I'm Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings." Goodsprings? I searched my mind but the name didn't seem familiar. Either I was missing huge patches in my memory or the town was small enough that I hadn't heard of it before. As I quickly ran over the major events in my life(including the delivery I was on that I was guessing got me shot) with perfect clarity, I figured it must be the latter.

"Now I hope you don't mind," he continued, oblivious to my inner monologue, "but I had to go rooting around in your noggin to get all the bits of lead out. I take pride in my needlework, but you better tell me if anything's out of place." He handed me a mirror. "How'd I do?"

I stared at the face in the mirror, noting that I looked much like I did before my skull was shattered by a bullet. Doc Mitchell was a good surgeon. A heart shaped face framed by long brown hair currently falling down past my shoulders. I promised myself to pull it back and out of my way as soon as I could move again. My once vault-pale skin had been tanned to a light brown by the Mojave desert, accompanied by a light dusting of freckles across my nose. My eyes a bright green, sharp and intelligent, and if the brows above them were shaped a bit more elegantly than I usually bothered with then I wasn't complaining. The same went for my lips, now a dusty rose pink color and a touch fuller than they used to be. I gave a hesitant smile to Doc Mitchell.

"Yep, that's me." Doc broke out into a grin.

"Looks like I still got it, as well as seeming that all the important parts of you still work. Let's get you on your feet." He gave me a hand up and I swung my feet to the cold floor, a cold I shouldn't have been able to feel through my combat boots. It was at this point that I realized I wasn't wearing them, wasn't wearing anything at all in fact. I was fully on my feet in a flash and scanning the room.

"Where's my gear?" I sounded accusatory and didn't particularly care. I hadn't let myself settle down out here, which meant no house, no place to leave my gear but on my back. I was carrying everything I owned with me, every cap I had saved, and if this old man thought to take it from me he had another thing coming.

"Slow down there, Miss," said Doc, his hands raised as if he was trying to calm a wild animal, which I guess I must have resembled at that point. "I didn't touch your gear. This is how the robot found you." My stomach dropped. They took _everything_? It occurred to me that I was most upset not by the loss of my top notch gear or caps, but by the loss of that silly doctor bobblehead that used to sit on my dad's desk in Vault 101. Those bastards. What the fuck was in that package I carrying that made me the target for this level of attack? The only place I could think of to look for answers was Primm, the town I was supposed to make the delivery to. I'm surprised the assholes didn't cut off my arm to steal my pip-boy. Speaking of which, Doc was eyeing it thoughtfully.

"Are you a vault girl, Angel?"

"Ang," I tell him, grateful that my voice was holding steady, "I go by Ang." He nodded.

"Right then, Ang, which vault do you come from? I recognize your pip-boy, I have one myself from growing up in Vault 21."

"Yeah, I grew up in Vault 101," I told him, allowing him to lead me to a chair. I took a seat and he handed me a glass of water, taking a seat on the couch across from me.

"I don't think I've heard of that one. Is it local?"

"No," I said, taking a drink of water. Hopefully that and my tone would tell him the subject's closed. He didn't push so I figured I got my point across.

"Well, I've patched you up physically as well as I can, and mentally you seem as fit as a fiddle. I'm afraid I don't have much help left to give. If you'd like you can poke around in my wife's wardrobe, you look about the same size as she was. My bedroom is down the hall on the left." A small smile crept onto my face. It seemed I'd found another person trying to do good where he could. I'd say it had something to do with being a vault dweller, but I've met quite a few of them that were just as much of an asshole as the raiders.

"Thanks Doc. I'll do that."

"And as far as weaponry goes, Sunny should be able to give you a hand. She's the blond girl with a dog in the saloon at the center of town." I gave him a nod and pushed to my feet, every step towards the wardrobe solidifying my control over my wayward body. The only thing I could find that was even close to acceptable was an old vault suit of his wife's and I had flashbacks as I slipped it on.

I wore one of these nearly everyday for the first 19 years of my life. In fact the only day I could recall wearing something different was when Butch asked me to the prom. My expression soured at thoughts of that bastard and finished buttoning up the vault suit so similar to my own, differing only in the number printed on the back. I repressed my shivers and headed back towards where Doc was waiting for me. He beamed.

"It's good to see that old vault suit getting some use again. If there's any other help you need you just head right back here." I gave him a nod and a word of thanks before stepping out of his house and into the hot Mojave desert. It didn't seem like it had changed any in the few days I was unconscious, just as scorching and deadly as ever. My hand came up to shield my eyes from the unforgiving sun and I surveyed the town of Good Springs, what little of it there was. It wasn't hard to spot the saloon, one of two buildings in the center of town with a spattering of houses on the outskirts.

I headed straight for it, determined _not_ to get involved with the people in this town. I didn't want the Capital Wasteland to happen all over again. Self imposed isolation is one thing, forced isolation because you can't keep your loved ones alive is a different one. So is choosing an asshole to share your bed with who would take your dog out and get him shot, but that's a completely different story all together. Little did I know my life of isolation, self imposed or otherwise, was about to come to a screeching halt.

I walked into the saloon, scanning for anyone who would fit the description of this Sunny girl only to be greeted by the sound of voices. Angry voices. I stayed in the hallway, eavesdropping without shame on the conversation. From what I could gather a member of one of the local raider tribes was threatening the town, saying if they didn't turn some person over they were going to raze the place to the ground.

My first instinct was to creep back the way I came from and try to make it to Primm on my own. I had worked hard over the last few years not to get involved, good or bad, with the inhabitants of the Mojave. I laughed silently at myself. And how well had that worked out? With me being shot in the head and buried alive for a package? At least when people tried to kill me before it was for a personal reason, who I was or what I'd done. I sighed and made a decision right there: no more standing on the sidelines, no more avoiding life. For good or bad, from that moment on I was all in.

The sound of the door to the saloon slamming shut jogged me out of my introspective thoughts. I took a deep breath before walking around the corner and being presented with a visibly shaken older woman trying to collect herself. She glanced up at my arrival and managed a smile.

"Well, hello dear. I'm Trudy. What can I get for you?" I returned her smile with one I hoped was comforting.

"Hi, Trudy. I'm Angel, Ang for short, and I heard the whole thing. How can I help?"


	3. Chapter 3

Monsters. The word kept running through my head on repeat as I walked through Nipton. I saw the bodies hanging on the crosses while the men on them still drew agonized breaths. I saw charred remains on piles of burnt tires, bodies with their throats slit, others were decapitated, their heads put on spikes and their bodies tossed aside like trash. What kind of monsters could do something like that?

I had, of course, heard of the Legion. Who hadn't? The psychotic group of former tribals that had fashioned themselves after the _very_ old world Roman army. They were slavers, murderers, and completely merciless. Their idea of honor was to blindly follow the orders of a dictator they called Caesar, a man who originally came from the nation they were fighting against. So yes, I'd heard of the Legion, but hearing and seeing are two very different things.

I crouched down, peaking around corners before proceeding down new streets in this town full of the dead and dying. It didn't take me long to find the cause of it. I peaked around a building on the corner of what looked to be the main street and knew immediately I'd been spotted. There was a group of Legionaries standing on the steps to the town hall and their leader was looking straight at me. Don't ask how he saw me, the only part of me sticking out from the building was the right side of my face.

He smiled at me, but it wasn't one of happiness. It didn't comfort me or make me feel safe and secure, quite the opposite in fact. His smile was mocking, condescending, hateful. I'm still not quite sure how to describe the man himself. He wasn't unattractive though the thought of crawling inot bed with him made me shiver and want to scrub off my skin. He was commanding, confident, charismatic, but most of all he was cruel.

"You can come out now, woman. I can see you." Damn it! I stood up, brushed myself off, and walked towards him with my head held high, the robot I restored in Primm floating by my side.

I nearly had a heart attack when I saw that robot, ED-E, lying inert on Johnson Nash's counter. It took every ounce of control I had not to grab the hammer beside it and smash it to pieces. I know Enclave, I've destroyed Enclave, and that thing was definitely Enclave.

"Mighty fine piece of work you did there Ang, fixing up Slim to be the new sheriff," said Nash, coming out from the back of the Mojave Outpost. I shrugged.

"I've always had a knack for machines," I responded, trying to keep my voice disinterested.

"Is that why you keep eyeing that robot of mine? Think you might be able to fix it?"

"Could be," I said, taking the excuse to examine the eyebot more closely. Oh yeah, definitely Enclave. "Where'd you get this heap of junk from anyway?"

"One of my couriers dropped it off, said he'd scavenged it somewhere out in the wastes but it was useless. Left it here and ain't come back for it. Guess that makes it mine." I looked at him sharply.

"The same courier that passed on my delivery?" Johnson shook his head.

"Nope, not the same guy. Tell you what, if you can get the thing running, it's yours."

"Johnson, mind giving me a hand with this?" called his wife Ruby from the back. He nodded at me and went to help her, confident he'd worked out the problem with ED-E. What he didn't take into account was that I didn't know if I _wanted_ it working.

I took a closer look at it. While the thing might have been Enclave originally it certainly didn't look like one of their standard eyebots now. It had a bumper sticker on one side of its casing and a license plate on the other, and the casing itself looked sturdier than the models I'd seen in DC. This one looked ready for combat. I could've just left it alone, claimed to not be able to fix it and went on my way. I nearly did just that before remembering my promise- for good or bad, I'm all in.

I quickly removed the outer casing and switched around the wiring before I could change my mind. As soon the thing powered on I opened an interface, scanning for what it knew and what it was looking for. If this thing was looking for me I was going to beat it to death with a hammer, no questions asked. But it wasn't. In fact, the logs stated this eyebot hadn't been in contact with the Enclave since a few months before I destroyed Raven Rock.

It looked like this robot, this "ED-E" as the logs called him, didn't even have a locator beacon. I breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed the Enclave wasn't looking for me after all. And if they were they weren't having any luck, which was fine by me. As it stood I still needed to track down the man in the checkered suit and his thugs, I had quite enough enemies lined up already.

I'd gotten the information I needed in Primm, now I was headed to Novac through Nipton and there was no more time to waste. I shouldered my pack and headed for the door, only to hear a beep from behind me. I turned to find ED-E floating above my head, clearly intent on following me. The question was, should I let it? I still don't know why I answered yes, but I do know that as I was walking down the main street of Nipton towards a squad of murderous legionaries I was glad I had.

They spread out from the steps as I approached, their leader making his way towards me. His smile never wavered and only grew more unsettling as I neared.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice smooth and soft, not at all what I expected. "I won't have you lashed to a cross like the rest of these degenerates. It's useful that you happened by." I kept my face a stone mask, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing my nerves. "I want you to witness the fate of Nipton, to memorize every detail. And then, when you move on? I want you to teach everyone you meet the lesson that Caesar's Legion taught here. Especially any NCR troops you happen to run across." The man's arrogance was unbelievable. I felt my emotions swing from fear to a quickly growing anger. He started to turn away, convinced I wouldn't be able to speak, but I surprised him.

"And just what 'lessons' did you teach here, hmm? What should the rest of the world learn from these atrocities?" He snickered.

"Where to begin? That they are weak while we are strong? They should already know that. But the depth of their moral sickness, their dissolution? Nipton serves as the perfect object lesson. The fate of this town of whores is what awaits all those who don't absolve themselves of their heathen ways and surrender to the Legion." A muscle in my jaw ticked.

"Your crimes here are unforgivable." He laughed aloud, as if what I said had truly amused him.

"As are all crimes. If you feel strongly about it, attack us, and soon you won't feel a thing." With a lift of his eyebrows and a nod of his head he pushed past me and headed out of town. I was still next to powerless at that point, the gear that I had managed to scrounge up between Goodspring and Nipton was nowhere near good enough to take out this squad, even with a plasma laser toting robot backing me up. It was good enough for one thing though.

"And who shall I say showed me this lesson?" I called when he was a few feet away. He turned to face me, his lips still turned up in that mockery of a smile.

"Vulpes Inculta."

"Well Vulpes Inculta, I'm not going to be teaching people anything." I pulled out my 9 mil and fired a shot straight into his forehead, all in one smooth motion he never saw coming. "And neither are you." I gave myself one moment, one _instant_ to enjoy the look of shock on his face before his forehead split open and he fell to the ground. Then I activated my stealth boy and ran like hell.


	4. Chapter 4

Caesar's Legion doesn't use guns, they think it's a sign of strength to only use melee weapons. This belief is what saved me that day. They have to be near you to hit you and barring that they need a clear line of sight to hit you with a spear. I gave them neither opportunity. ED-E laid down some cover fire until I made it to the mouth of the canyon pass leading to Novac, making them unable to trace the path of the vague shimmer in the air that I had become.

I ran, relishing the victory over that monster Vulpes Inculta, but not stupid enough to try to take on the rest with a 9 mil and an unmodded cowboy repeater. ED-E doubled back so as not to lead them straight to me but caught up soon enough. And still I ran. I made it to Novac in a little over an hour, half the normal travel time, out of breath but alive.

I paused just outside of town to gather my wits and my breath before heading in. I'd passed through Novac before just as I'd passed through most towns on my way to deliveries. I'd never even stopped here for supplies, but I knew the first place I should head was the hotel at the center of town. I slid in through the door of the lobby, an old worn out bell chiming my arrival. The woman at the desk looked up from her magazine and gave me a smile.

"Well, welcome to you. You sure look tired from the road. Can I get you a room?" I smiled, glad to see a friendly face.

"We haven't met yet. I'm Ang," I said, approaching the counter.

"Oh, what am I doing? I got to thinking about making a good impression and plain forgot to tell you my name. I'm Jeannie May. I take care of folks here in the hotel, long as they aren't troublemakers." She looked over her glasses at me and I nodded.

"Not to worry, Jeannie May, I'm not here to cause trouble." A smile resumed its place on her face.

"Good. So, what can I do for you?"

"I was hoping you could give me some information. I'm looking for a man in a checkered coat, slicked back hair, accompanied by some thugs. Have you seen anyone like that?" Jeannie May sniffed.

"Well he might have been wearing a fancy outfit, but he wasn't any kind of gentleman to me. City folks like him always think they're too good for the likes of us. You should go ask one of our snipers, they might have seen something about where he went. You can find Manny Vargas during the day and Craig Boone at night up at the top of the dinosaur."

"Thank you," I said with a nod and pushed away from the counter.

"Wait now, dear," she said, causing me to pause. "You look exhausted and seem like such a nice girl. How about I comp you a room? It'll be yours until the busy season." She chuckled. "Not that there is a busy season. You can get a few hours of rest and then head on up. There's one of them always on duty, day or night."

"Thank you," I said with a smile. Another person who did good where she could. I took the key and headed up to my room on the second floor. The instant my head hit the pillow I was out.

I woke up a few hours later feeling well rested and ready to go. A quick glance out the window showed that the sun had set while I slept which meant that I'd be talking to the night sniper. It made no difference to me, as long as I got my information. I hesitated before leaving the room. My pack had a few unnecessary things in it, mostly spare parts to make repairs that I didn't need on hand. Jeannie said I could keep the room...

It was a big step for me, though it may seem small. In the four years since I left DC I hadn't allowed myself to have a place of my own; that would lead to me getting involved. All in, I thought to myself, leaving behind the spare parts in a footlocker and making my way towards the dinosaur. It was cute, really. A novelty building left standing after the war. I entered in through a door in the belly, finding myself in some sort of shop before heading up the stairs on my left.

I emerged in the dinosaur's mouth to find a man staring out at the surrounding wastelands. He wore a red beret on his head and his body was well built but tense, all his focus turned outwards to the Mojave.

"You must be Craig Boone," I started. The man spun to face me so quickly I lost my train of thought. It had not a thing to do with his looks, not one. Though he _was_ very handsome with a defined jaw and chiseled cheeks, perhaps a few years older than me in his late 20's. His eyes were mostly hidden behind tinted glasses though I caught a flick of green and his full lips were set into a firm line that didn't look like it turned into a smile very often. The muscles on his chest and arms caused his shirt to bulge, particularly when he folded his arms, which he did now and glared at me.

"Goddamnit! Don't sneak up on me like that. What do you want?" Not exactly the warm welcome I'd gotten from Jeannie, but okay.

"Expecting someone?" I asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, I guess maybe I am. But not like you." His eyes ran over my form from head to toe, taking me in. "Huh. Maybe it was you I should've expected all along." He said this last part to himself, seeming far away for a moment before his attention snapped back to me. "Why are you here? Who are you?"

"You know if you're looking for someone in particular I could tip you off if I see them," I said, completely side stepping his questions.

"Yeah, well if you see anybody wearing Legion crimson or a lot of sports equipment you just let me know. You still haven't answered my question." It figured he would catch that. He didn't look like the stupid type. When I didn't immediately answer he clenched his jaw. "I think you'd better leave." He started to turn away and I took a step towards him.

"Wait, I'm Angel, Ang for short, and I just need some information about a man in a checkered coat that passed through here. Jeannie May told me to ask you." He raised an eyebrow.

"Jeannie May sent you to ask _me_?" I felt the color rush to my cheeks. This was ridiculous! Stumbling over my words, blushing like an embarrassed school girl. No more.

"Technically she sent me to ask one of the snipers. Do you treat everyone around here like this?" I demanded. A change seemed to come over him. A moment ago I think he might have pushed me out of the dino's mouth to get me to leave but now I think he might shoot me in the knee to get me to stay.

"Wait, you just got into town. Maybe you shouldn't go just yet." I rolled my eyes.

"So now you want something from me." He remained stone faced.

"Just like you want something from me. You help me, I help you." I sighed.

"What do you need?"

"I need someone I can trust. You're a stranger, that's a start." I blinked.

"You only trust strangers?"

"I said it was a start," he said, his already gravely voice coming out as a growl. "This town... nobody looks me straight in the eye anymore."

"Shocking," I said sarcastically, "what with you being such a pleasant person." His expression didn't change.

"You done?" I sighed. Figured. No sense of humor.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"I want you to find something out for me. I don't know if there's anything to find, but I need someone to try." He hesitated briefly before continuing. I would later learn this was the first time he'd shared this story, that this first step for him was as large as me leaving behind spare parts in my room. "My wife was taken from our home by legion slavers one night two years ago while I was on watch. They knew when to come, what route to take, and they only took Carla. Someone set it up. I don't know who." His story caught me off guard.

"You're trying to track down your wife?" His voice was cold as ice when he responded.

"My wife's dead. I want the son of a bitch that sold her."

"How do you know she's dead?"

"I know, all right?" He seemed to finally be losing that stoic bearing. "And that's all you need to know." I nodded. He'd shared enough.

"What do I do when I find this person?" I asked, determined to hunt down the monster that would sell a man's wife into slavery while he kept watch over their town. I know the need for vengeance, the burning that seems to consume you until it's forged you into a harder, less forgiving person. It's what drove me to destroy the Enclave. Boone didn't hesitate in his answer.

"Bring him out in front of the nest here while I'm on duty. I work nights. Here, take my NCR beret," He said, taking it off his head to reveal closely cut brown hair. He handed the hat to me, our fingers brushing. I felt electricity spark from the touch, and judging form the brief falter of his movements he felt it too. We both ignored it though and he continued with his instructions. "Put this on when you're standing next to the person who did this. I'll take care of the rest. I need to do this myself."

"I'll find the person that did this, Boone," I told him firmly.

"Good. I'll make it worth your while. One more thing. We shouldn't speak again until this thing is over. No one in town knows that I know what happened to my wife. Best they never know, or the Legion will be after me next."

"You've got a lot of control," I told him, shaking my head. "I probably would have gunned down the whole town by now." One side of his mouth curved up slightly.

"The thought has crossed my mind. But there's a town full of innocents down there with one bad apple among them. I don't want anymore innocent blood on my hands."

"Anymore?" I questioned. And just like that, he shut down.

"Good night, Ang." He turned away from me and back to the wasteland. I made my way back down the stairs and through the gift shop, towards the hotel lobby once again. I knew there was no hope for me getting anymore sleep tonight and I'd seen a coffee maker that still seemed somewhat functional earlier. I hadn't had real, ground beans coffee since I left the vault five years ago. Out here even the instant stuff is rare, but I had to think and having something to stimulate my brain that was less addictive than chems was a great plan.

I checked near the mug but couldn't find any coffee to go with the machine, so I headed behind the counter to see if Jeannie May had a stash there. There was an area rug covering the space behind the counter which I thought was an placement, but a few steps in I found out why. The texture of the floor beneath the rug changed, my steps making a hollow sound. A safe. There was a safe on the wall right over there, why did she need a second one hidden from view?

I had a bad feeling about this. The only reason to have a second safe no one knows about is because you have something you need to make sure no one ever finds. I wanted to laugh it off, ignore the sinking feeling in my gut and get my coffee, but I know better than to ignore my instincts. So I set ED-E on look out and started in on the safe, which took me less than three minutes to get into using a single bobby pin. I found some jet, caps, and a note. The chems didn't surprise me but the amount of caps she had did; it seemed like more than a hotel in a small out of the way town should be able to bring in. My hands shook as I read the note. Turned out Jeannie May wasn't as friendly as she seemed.


	5. Chapter 5

I hadn't expected her to be back so quickly. It was only a few hours ago that I had told her about Carla, about what had happened to Carla. I had expected days, maybe even weeks, yet there she was hours later with Jeannie May Crawford. I did a double take. Jeannie May Crawford?

Ang cocked an eyebrow at me, as if to ask what I was waiting for. It was a challenge. This slip of a woman who should have been afraid of me was issuing me a challenge. She had delivered, what was I going to do about it? So I raised my rifle and took off Jeannie May's head. Ang stepped into the range of my scope, satisfaction gleaming in those bright green eyes of hers.

But satisfaction at what? At taking down a slaver? Or at conning me into taking out an innocent mark? She didn't seem like the type but you can never be too sure. Excuse the hell out of me for being paranoid, but I think my history justifies it.

Ang's eyes flew up to the mouth of the dinosaur as if she could hear what I was thinking. She adjusted my blood spattered beret on her head and moved towards the gift shop entrance. I watched her ass as she moved. No matter how firm her gait it still swayed enticingly with every step.

"Damn it, Boone, get it together!" I whispered harshly to myself, rubbing my face with my hands. It had been two years since I lost Carla and in all that time I hadn't so much as touched another woman- I'd had no desire to. That was rapidly changing. Parts of me I had thought long dead were suddenly... springing to life.

"It's fine," I muttered to myself. "She's just the first woman you've seen in two years who hasn't been a murder suspect or smelled like a brahmin. Of course your body is going to react." I heard Ang's footsteps on the stairs and quickly wiped any sign of emotion off my face. It wasn't hard. I may not have always been like this, in fact I can remember actually smiling when Carla was around, but this is the way I am now.

She opened the door slowly, as if trying to gauge the reaction I was going to have. She didn't have to be nervous, this wasn't my first kill. Hell, even if Jeannie May didn't do it, it wouldn't have been my first innocent kill. I pushed that thought ruthlessly out of my mind. It wouldn't stay gone, of course, it never did. But it would give me enough space to concentrate on the present.

"How did you know it was her?" I asked, no small talk needed. She reached into her pocket and handed me a folded slip of paper. I turned away from her as I read it. A bill of sale for Carla. And my unborn child. Carla hadn't been very far along, barely showing, but pregnant all the same. A chuckle of pure bitterness escaped my mouth. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It would be like them to keep paperwork."

"I spoke to Jeannie May about Carla," said Ang hesitantly. "Before I led her out there, I mean. She said... she said Carla was planning on leaving you. That she had packed her bags while you were on duty that night."

I closed my eyes, grateful Ang couldn't see my face. This wasn't news to me, Carla had said as much in the weeks before she disappeared. I found Carla in New Vegas when I was on leave, a girl used to the bright lights and big city. She was beautiful. Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, and able to make me forget about the realities of life in the NCR's military. I fell for her hard. When my tour with the NCR's sniper unit ended my former best friend Manny and I decided on Novac to settle down in. It was a good fit. They needed protection and we needed a good town to call home.

The only piece of the puzzle that seemingly refused to fit was Carla. She hated it here, was always on me to move us back to New Vegas. The charming, adventurous woman I'd fallen in love with didn't translate well outside of the city. She and Manny fought constantly and I knew he hated her. She didn't exactly get along well with the locals either.

Carla and I were fighting too. She wanted to go back to New Vegas. She even had a security job at one of the casinos lined up for me. I told her no way. Novac was home now, this is where they needed me and this is where I was staying. Things took a turn for the worse when we found out she was pregnant. She told me there was no fucking way she was having the baby in this backwater cesspool and she was going back to Vegas with or without me. I guess I blamed some of that on the hormones. We were newlyweds though. I always figured it was part of the adjustment process and we'd work it out. Looking back now I'm not so sure we would have. Maybe our end was inevitable, but we never got the chance to find out.

"I don't care what she was planning," I told Ang harshly, turning to face her, "she still didn't deserve to be sold like a piece of meat."

Ang didn't shrink from my anger, she met it head on and simply nodded. "No one does."

Shit. If I didn't watch it I might find myself respecting this girl. I handed her a pouch with 100 bottle caps in it. "Here. This is all I can spare. Manny Vargas has the information you need."

Her face which moments before was full of empathy hardened and she glared. "You told me _you_ had the information for me. We had a deal."

"Our deal was my help for yours." I reached out and took my beret off her head, refusing to notice how soft her hair was as I did, and deposited it back onto my own head. "I told you where to get your information. That's helping."

"What will you do now?" she asked. "Stay up here and brood some more?" The concern she showed for my feelings moments before was long gone now. Not that it mattered.

"I don't know. I won't be staying, I know that." I turned to look out over the Mojave. "Don't see much point in anything right now, except hunting legionaries." I glanced over my shoulder at her. "Maybe I'll become a wanderer, like you."

She cocked her head to one side and studied me. I could feel the weight of her stare on me as if it was a tangible thing. She gave a brisk nod and seemed to come to a decision. A leap of faith, I later learned. "Come with me. Let's go after the Legion together."

I was taken aback but quickly shook my head. "You don't want to do that."

Intelligence gleamed in those sharp green eyes of hers. "I thought snipers worked in teams."

I thought back to my last team, me and Manny Vargas. That didn't end well. I was about to tell her so, but something stopped me. _Something_ told me I should take her up on her offer. I took her in, head to toe, trying to judge what kind of a partner she would be. Her body was a thing of beauty, a juxtaposition of soft curves and hard muscles. She certainly looked capable enough.

"Yeah. Working on your own you're a lot less effective. I've been there and paid for it."

Half of her mouth turned up in a wry grin. "Preaching to the choir."

"But this isn't gonna end well," I warned. I waited to see if this would scare her but she just chuckled. I sighed. "Fine, let's get out of here."

"First," she said pointedly, "we have to talk to Manny Vargas." Damn. I had forgotten that part. "And since you're coming with me, you get to do the talking." She opened the door and started down the stairs. I followed after her, grabbing her arm and spinning her to face me. Heat flared up my arm from the connection but I didn't flinch.

"I'm not talking to Manny."

Her brow furrowed. "Why not?"

I released her arm. "Because I _don't_ talk to Manny."

"I thought the two of you were friends."

I got the feeling Ang was used to getting the truth out of people. If I wasn't careful she might just get my secrets out of me. "We were." I let the silence hang between us, not offering anything else.

"Not anymore?" she pressed.

"No."

She waited but when I didn't expound on this she shrugged. "Fine. I'll talk to Manny. You lead the way."

We headed over to the hotel and stopped in front of Manny's room on the ground floor, me trying with all my might not to make my teeth grinding audible. I hadn't spoken to Manny since the day Carla was taken. Asshole. Ang knocked on the door. No answer.

"Can we get this over with?" I ground out. If she found my behavior odd she didn't comment on it. She just fished a bobby pin out of her pocket and made short work of the lock. Manny wasn't in his room, probably at the town's version of a diner getting some breakfast. I nodded towards his computer on the back wall. "I'd try there first. Think you can get in?"

The wicked smile was all the answer I needed. In moments she was in and the first thing that popped up was what she needed, a note from the Great Khans thanking Manny for helping them on their way to Boulder City with some guy named Benny. It seemed checkered coat had a name. Ang downloaded a copy of it to her pipboy, shut down the computer, and we turned to go. Just in time for Manny to walk through the door.

"Boone?" he asked, shocked. I didn't even bother to look at him, keeping my bored gaze trained on the far wall. From the corner of my eye I saw his face fall for a split second before he hid it and turned to Ang. "What are you doing in my room?"

A smile, warm and inviting, made its way to Ang's face. The thought that she was stunningly beautiful flitted across my mind before I had the chance to stop it. "Actually, I'm here looking for you. I was told you might have some information on a man in a checkered coat."

"Sure, I know him," said Manny with a shrug. "What do you want with him?" Ang's smile lost some of its sweetness and her eyes took on a hard gleam.

"He has something of mine I plan to take back."

"You mean that platinum chip? Man, I don't think he's giving it up."

Ang's smile was now downright feral. "I don't plan on asking."

Manny nodded, weighing his options. "Sure, I can help you out, but I got problems of my own. Maybe we can do a trade, my help for yours."

I could practically hear her eyes roll. I figured this would be the part where she told him to fuck off, after all she already had the information we needed, but she didn't. She asked him what he needed and he explained about the ghoul situation up the road. She promised to look into it and we left. I stopped her a few feet outside Manny's room.

"Why did you agree to do that? We already had what we need."

She looked up at me like I was the crazy one. "He needs help with those ghouls to keep Novac running and it just so happens that I have help to give." She shrugged. "The wasteland is a fucked up place. Might as well fix what I can." She walked off in the direction Manny pointed her to, leaving me to stare after her.

Where the hell did she come from? And what the hell had I signed up for?


End file.
